


Heartless

by DarkPoisonousLove



Category: Winx Club
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, anger management issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-16 07:03:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19642075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPoisonousLove/pseuds/DarkPoisonousLove
Summary: Griffin's free from Valtor's prison and is staying at Alfea. But Valtor is far from being out of her life and even her heart. Set after 3x14. Griffin and Faragonda have a tallk.





	Heartless

She’d last had a room at Alfea when the Trix had taken over her school. And once before that when Valtor had taken over her life. And now they’d joined forces and had taken over both. It didn’t matter that she was out of her cell. She was still trapped in a position in which she couldn’t do anything to help save her students. Or anyone else, really.

She considered using her magic to accomplish the few simple tasks her accommodations required of her–like opening the window for some fresh air and wrapping a blanket around herself–because she was exhausted but full of negative energy that was clogging up her system. But if she let the destructive force of her magic out of her fingertips, she’d wreck the whole school before she’d be able to stop herself. She doubted her welcome covered that. So she settled for tending to the plants in her room, hoping that taking care of them would balance out enough of the relentless power inside her.

She occupied herself for a while but the delicacy of the leafs and the fragility of the stems only seemed to tempt the destruction inside her further, luring it out. Griffin gave up after she lost control and accidentally snapped one of the plants in half. If she didn’t stop, she’d break someone’s neck next.

She’d barely settled down on her bed when someone knocked on the door. It wasn’t hard to guess who that was.

“Griffin?” Faragonda’s voice came from the other side, calm and placating, and so very annoying that the witch almost rolled her eyes. “May I come in?”

Griffin let her magic out and allowed it to swing the door open with brutal force. The loud crash the door produced when it collided with the wall was like a scream of agony, and it calmed her as much as it frustrated her. She had so much desire to inflict agony and so little to spare it on. And inanimate objects couldn’t even cower and beg for mercy. Half the therapeutic effect was lost that way.

Faragonda walked in, unimpressed by the display of rage, but made sure to close the door behind her to save it from further rough treatment. “I came to see how you’re doing,” she said, causing Griffin to glare at her for the unnecessary information. “You’re radiating so much negative energy that my school is drenched in it,” she continued before her gaze was drawn away by the massacred plant. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. But it looks like the plants already suffered your rage.” Her hands were clasped behind her back and her voice was mellow with no traces of anger in it, which only angered Griffin further. She wished she had the composure of her friend. But, currently, all she had were her temper tantrums – breaking things and slamming doors.

“Just the one,” she said as she turned to look at the poor plant. It had no fault but the one she wished to snap in half was out of her reach and out of her league. “I’m sorry,” she said, unable to look her friend in the eyes.

“Do you want me to leave?” Faragonda asked, ever so considerate.

“No.” It was almost embarrassing how fast she fired it out. But the thought of being left alone with all this rage, with all this misery was unbearable. It was too much for her heart to take.

Faragonda crossed the room, her quiet steps the most reassuring sound Griffin could remember and her warm hand on Griffin’s shoulder melting the lump of ice stuck in her throat. “How are you?” Faragonda asked as she sat down on the bed next to her. The question was stupid and the answer was obvious.

Griffin sighed. “I’m tired,” she clasped her hands in her lap, staring at them as hard as it would take for her to be certain that she wouldn’t look over at Faragonda. “I’m tired of making wrong choices.” She still noticed the frown on Faragonda’s face out of the corner of her eye. “I helped Valtor become as powerful as he is and I allowed the Trix to go as far as they did, and now they’re all back and they’re working together,” she continued because running from the truth wouldn’t make it disappear, just like forgetting the past hadn’t erased it. She had locked it away but it had come back to hold her captive in its prison. “The universe is endangered for the third time because of something I did.”

Faragonda reached over and took her hand in hers. “You can’t keep doing this,” she said with seriousness and firmness that hadn’t been there before. It was as if she was more concerned with the possibility of Griffin hurting herself rather than of her hurting everyone else. “You have to stop blaming yourself.”

Griffin looked at her friend. “How can I stop blaming myself when I can’t even stop my...” she stopped to search for the word as if that would change the horror of the confession, “feelings,” something inside her quivered, “for Valtor?” It was out in the open and the world still hadn’t collapsed on top of her, nor had Faragonda’s judgment.

She was looking at her with as much understanding as ever. Because she’d always known. She knew her so well, and Griffin didn’t know what she’d done to get a friend like her. All she knew was that she didn’t deserve her.

Still, she clutched at Faragonda’s hand tighter. “I should hate him after everything he’s done,” she said, hating herself for the tears gathering in her eyes. Valtor was not worth getting her makeup smeared over. “I hate him,” she corrected. “But I also love him, too.” She took a deep breath, surprised that she could still breathe after the words had left her mouth. “Do you think he could have loved me?” she asked because she needed to believe that she hadn’t fallen for someone who’d only wanted her for her magical abilities. She needed to believe that they could’ve been together if they weren’t who they were.

“Why are you asking me?” Faragonda asked carefully but even despite that the words sounded harsh. Because it was a stupid question with an obvious answer. “What is it you want to hear?” she asked and Griffin knew that her question confused her friend as much as it did her.

“The truth.” Because she couldn’t tell.

Faragonda nodded. “Yes,” she spoke, startling Griffin with her answer. “I think he could have loved you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have fallen in love with him.”

Griffin smiled bitterly and shook her head. Faragonda was giving her way too much credit. “Witches are not famous for good judgment,” she reminded. She’d fallen right in Valtor’s clutches and she doubted that something as trivial and insignificant as rational thinking had played any role in the process.

“You have better judgment than you think,” Faragonda squeezed her hand. “It’s why you left him,” she added before Griffin could argue, giving her pause.

“I left him,” she agreed. “But I also left him my heart.” The words were as easy to say as it was to swallow her pride – it was like chewing broken glass. “And now he’s come back to destroy it. Just like everything else.” The first tear fell, smearing her makeup and proving the truth of her words.


End file.
